


Alternate Timelines

by MLMDarkFiction



Series: Dark's Ferdibert Week 2020 fics [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blue Lions Ferdinand von Aegir, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Guilt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25931107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLMDarkFiction/pseuds/MLMDarkFiction
Summary: Ferdinand Von Aegir is a noble man who deserves a noble death, and Hubert tries his best to give him that.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Dark's Ferdibert Week 2020 fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870513
Kudos: 22
Collections: Ferdibert Week 2020





	Alternate Timelines

  
  
  


“You!” 

“I’m sorry.”

Ferdinand doesn’t understand what he’s apologizing for, or why he’s apologizing in the first place. 

The only person who he should be apologizing to is Edelgard...maybe, but not Hubert. 

It was no secret that Hubert hated him. 

He always had. 

Ferdinand never understood it, likely never would, what it was he’d done to create such malice in the other. 

He had to thank Hubert for it though, the years of abuse and torment and hatred. 

It was the one thing that pushed him over the edge when the Professor had asked him to join the Blue Lion’s class back when they were in school. 

He would have done anything to get away from the judging glare of Hubert, and he did. 

Maybe it was just running away, but...running away felt safe. 

It  _ had _ felt safe, until now. 

It was just himself, and Dorothea, the only two defectors, the only two dumb (or smart) enough to betray the Empire. 

When they knew it was coming down to this, that they may have to kill their friends, not just faceless soldiers they had confided in each other. 

Dorothea had made him promise he wouldn’t hesitate. 

She made him promise that no matter what he’d do what it took to survive, even if it meant killing someone who was once an ally. 

He promised her. 

And yet he found himself hesitating. 

Something deep within his body seems to be refusing to move, his horse spooked beneath his movement, and she’s not here now, halfway across the battlefield. 

He should relish in it. 

An attempt at revenge. 

An attempt to pay Hubert back for every rude, hurtful, abusive thing he’s ever said to him, but he can’t. 

It feels like his limbs are lead. 

Something is wrong. 

Something is  **wrong** !

Hubert hesitates too. 

Only for a moment. 

Their eyes meet, gold on green, and then Ferdinand feels nothing but pain. 

Whatever he had felt when their eyes had met, that fleeting feeling of something being off, of there being something more, it had scared Hubert. 

Scared the man so much he’d casted Dark Spikes without thinking, effectively snuffing the feeling out. 

He felt nothing, or at least it appeared that way, as he sneered down at Ferdinand as he’s suspended by the dark energy. 

“I always knew it would be like this,”

His words are cold, and suffocating and  _ untrue.  _

And in this moment he refuses to think back on his past childish hopes and dreams during his Academy days. 

The feelings he found himself having for the ginger, and the way they twisted into something crueler with his inability to express himself. 

Those foolish feelings...

His life belongs fully to Lady Edelgard, it always had, whatever yearning he had for something more, for Ferdinand, was nothing more than a youthful mistake. 

His life belongs to Edelgard.

To the Empress and her Empire. 

His body, his magic, his soul; It is all simply an extension of her will, and nothing will stand between her and her goals. 

Not even Ferdinand.

“ _ I’m sorry.” _

No one sees Hubert Von Vestra slit the other man's throat. 

  
They are on a battlefield, people are dying all around them, and no one has the time to focus on anything but staying alive for themselves, but if they had they might assume it something done of cruelty. 

A mage dirtying his own hand as a final fuck you to the rival of his school years, but it’s not. 

It’s a mercy. 

As much as he will never admit it, not to his Lady, not to anyone, least of all himself; 

Ferdinand is far from a random soldier fallen to Hubert’s magical prowess. 

He is special. 

And it’s because he is special that Hubert finds himself unable to watch as he struggles on the spikes, blood filling his lungs and pooling from his mouth, like a rat in a trap. 

Ferdinand Von Aegir is a noble man who deserves a noble death, and Hubert tries his best to give him that. 

What if’s are a dime a dozen. 

Something which before Hubert found to be worthless, and this is proven even more so now. 

When he leaves the battlefield that night, returning to camp he finds his mind racing, unable to stop itself from being flooded with thoughts of  _ him  _ and what he could have done differently. 

The deed is done, the hands on the clock cannot turn back any further, and yet he can’t stop himself from thinking. 

What if he had been nicer?

  
Kinder?

Maybe Ferdinand would have stayed.

Maybe they could have fought alongside each other instead of facing one another in a battle in which neither of them could ever truly win. 


End file.
